


Say You'll Remember Me (Even If It's Just Pretend)

by ababybat



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6077622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ababybat/pseuds/ababybat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Break ups, Damian has learned, are bad for a person's self esteem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say You'll Remember Me (Even If It's Just Pretend)

**Author's Note:**

> Damian is probably a little OOC, but I wanted to explore a version of him that wasn't raised to be an assassin, or would-be king, or child soldier, so his childhood was somewhat happier and his relationship with Tim is more positive as a result. His many insecurities and self-doubts now come from a different place.

Ignoring the people giving him strange looks as they walk by, Damian double checks his hair in his car's rearview mirror to make sure not a single strand is out of place. His fringe is strategically swept across half of his forehead in a way that makes him seem more tempting, or so some of his friends claim. Damian isn't a hundred percent sure about that assessment - he knows absolutely nothing about being enticing, he feels so awkward that it hurts sometimes, but Damian is willing to trust their opinion just this once.

 

Damian moves on from obsessing over his hair to the eyeliner drawn around his eyes. The kohl makes his eyes feel heavy, like he hasn't gotten quite enough sleep, and he wants to rub at them, but doing so will smudge the makeup and Damian went through hours of torture to look just right. So he resists the urge - ignores the way his hands twitch - and leans back in his car seat instead.

 

The loud, repetitive _doomph, doomph, doomph_ coming from the club adds to the nervousness that flutters - persistent and unwelcome - in the pit of his stomach. He's been sitting in his car for a good twenty minutes, checking and rechecking his appearance, and trying to work up the courage to go inside.

 

Why is he even there? It's a question he's been asking himself since he arrived. Club hopping really isn't his thing - Damian prefers staying home with a good book, some music and a very large glass of wine. It's by no means his first time at a club, but all the previous times Damian had his friends to take the attention off of him. Now he's all alone, and what the hell was he thinking coming here?

 

Damian knows the answer to both questions even if he likes to pretend he doesn't. Break ups, Damian has learned, are bad for a person's self esteem. Damian's own very recent one was made especially horrible when his ex said things Damian would have preferred never acknowledging. Damian knows he's not the most exciting person in the world - he's rather stiff, in appearance and personality, and he's more aware of that than anyone else could ever hope to be - but to have the person you love, and who you thought loved you, say it makes it so much more real and harder to ignore.

 

His ex's words stung. They still sting; like a thousand little needles poking at his wounded heart.

 

It was while he wallowed in the misery of having been found so inadequate that Damian decided he could be spontaneous, too. He could be fun and drink and dance the night away with strangers. Of course Damian never really planned on going out and having a wild time - he really was just all talk and absolutely no action - but the problem with having Timothy Drake as a brother _and_ a roommate is that he encourages all bad ideas. Before Damian knew it, he was dolled up and ready for a night on the town.

 

And now all that is left is to actually go inside.

 

It's harder than it should be. Damian wishes he had Timothy's devil-may-care attitude, or Richard's overflowing confidence, or even Colin's unyielding optimism. All Damian has is himself, and that never seems to be enough.

 

The final encouragement Damian needs comes in the form of a simple text message. He's about to give up on the whole plan - his hand is so close to turning the key in the ignition - when his phone suddenly buzzes. The sound of it vibrating against the upholstery of the passenger seat is loud and unexpected, and Damian's whole body jerks in surprise.

 

_Go inside._

 

The text is from Tim. Damian is a little freaked out because how exactly does Tim know he's stalling?

 

His answer comes when his phone's screen lights up with another text message: _because I know you._

 

It does nothing to help how anxious Damian suddenly feels, but it does the trick and has him out of the car. Somehow Tim will know if he drives off and spends the evening in one of those lonely coffee shops instead.

 

The bouncer gives him a look when Damian hands over his ID for inspection. He's sure he'll be turned away, but the burly man only gives Damian a quick once over - Damian wonders if the appreciation he sees in the bouncer's eyes is real or simply a figment of his imagination - and then flicks his head in a command for Damian to enter the building.

 

Inside the club it's something close to chaos. When he steps inside he winces - the music is so loud that Damian can feel the bass pulse heavy beneath his skin. The dance floor is crowded with people - sweaty bodies move beautifully together to the beat of the loud music, and no one seems to care who they're dancing with as long as they have someone to share the intoxicating moment with. The people who aren't dancing their worries away are pressed close, in the booths and tables along the walls, couples are huddled together and most of them don't seem to care that they're making out in full view of other people.

 

The atmosphere is alien to Damian, but even so his heartbeat speeds up and breathing becomes a little more complicated as his body instinctively reacts to the primal nature of his surroundings.

 

Surprisingly, the dance floor looks kind of inviting. It's a little tempting to just join the crowd and lose himself to the music, but Damian knows he's not brave or drunk enough to even try.

 

Standing on the sidelines like an idiot is not on Damian's agenda. Pushing through a throng of people and ignoring the curious hands that reach for him, Damian heads to the bar where he plans on spending most of the evening.

 

Except for the bartender and a few other people standing about with their drinks in hand, the bar is thankfully not too crowded. Hoping he doesn't look as out of place as he feels, Damian climbs onto one of the tall barstools and while he surveys his surroundings, Damian's eyes inevitably land on a man seated nearby. The stranger's short hair is dark with an unnaturally pale streak in his bangs and his fringe is swept up and away from his forehead; the cut emphasizes the beautiful curve of his cheekbones. Dressed in black jeans, a black shirt and a black leather jacket, the man exudes an enticing kind of mystery.

 

Attraction coils hot within the pit of Damian's stomach.

 

The man is nursing a beer. He raises the bottle and when his lips wrap around its mouth, Damian has to suck his bottom lip between his teeth and look away before he does something embarrassing. But he can't keep himself from ignoring the man for too long - when his eyes flicker towards the stranger again, Damian finds that aquamarine eyes are staring right back. It takes Damian by surprise and his first instinct is to look away again, but Damian forces himself to hold the man's intense gaze. A moment passes between them, or so Damian believes. Someone hasn't looked at him like that in months, probably even years, and it's an exhilarating experience. The look of unquestionable interest in the man's gaze is exactly what Damian's ego needed and when he finally does let his eyes slip from the man, there's a smile on his face.

 

The man is grinning, too.

 

When the bartender with wild red hair pulled up in a messy bun asks him, "get you anything?" in a gruff, bored tone, and Damian is tempted to order what he would under normal circumstances - a glass of expensive red wine; something he's been conditioned to drink since he began accompanying his father and Tim to important business dinners - but Damian reconsiders when he remembers why exactly he's there. He can hear Tim's voice in his head telling him to have fun; to be brave and try new things.

 

"Just a shot of... whatever." Damian says casually. He hopes giving a shrug will make him look confidently nonchalant; except Damian is sure it only makes him look twitchy.

 

"Right," The bartender sighs patiently, "just a shot of _whatever_ coming up."

 

While the bartender is busy grabbing a shot glass and the drink he'll be serving, Damian looks back at the stranger, but the man is no longer paying any attention to him. Already bored by the flirtatious game Damian thinks they may have been playing, the man is now looking at anything but Damian. Damian isn't disappointed, or so he chooses to tell himself as he valiantly ignores the hot swell of disillusionment forming in his lonely heart.

 

"Whiskey straight." The bartender announces, temporarily distracting Damian from how not disappointed he is. The bartender pours the shot glass to the brim with the amber liquid and then pushes it towards Damian. Some of the liquid spills over the brim of the glass, running down the side in tiny rivers. "Bottoms up."

Carefully taking the glass in hand so he won't spill more than what has already been spilled, Damian recoils a little when he gets a whiff of the strong smelling alcohol. The bartender is smirking at him. Damian knows he's finding the whole situation very amusing, probably waiting for Damian to ask for something weaker, and, steeling himself because damn it he's a grown man and he can handle this, Damian downs the shot in one go, throwing his head back as he does so.

 

It burns. That is the first thing Damian realizes as the alcohol slides, hot and unpleasant, down his throat. He chokes mid-swallow; his body seizes and Damian battles against the instinctive urge to cough it all up again. His fingers squeeze around the glass, he tries to keep it down - somehow he does, but he can't hold back the disgusted shudder that rakes through him when he finally manages to swallow it all.

 

The bartender snorts as he wanders away. Damian thinks he's never been this humiliated in his entire life. That isn't true; there have been many embarrassing moments in his short existence, but sitting there, while his throat feels like it's on fire, Damian can't think of anything more embarrassing than this moment.

 

"You don't drink very often, do you?" A voice, low and beautiful, questions from nearby. Somehow Damian should have known the voice would be just as sexy as the rest of the package.

 

Humiliated, Damian wonders why the handsome man would pay attention to him _now_. When he manages to stop himself from bashing his skull open on the bar top to escape the humiliation, Damian finds that there is an amused sparkle in the handsome stranger's eyes that make him seem even more attractive.

 

Damian ignores the nervousness fluttering in his belly as he gives an embarrassed laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

 

The look in the man's eyes tells Damian that the answer is a firm, unquestionable _yes_ , but he's at least nice enough not to say it out loud. "You're lucky Roy didn't give you something more potent."

 

"I don't even want to know what could be worse."

 

Damian wrinkles his nose in disgust - completely misses the way the man's smile softens - and wonders how anything could be worse than what he just had.

 

An easy, happy chuckle spills from the man's lips. Damian feels his heart stutter hard in his chest. "Let's keep it that way. I'm Jason, by the way."

 

Somehow Damian manages a small smile when he says, "Damian."

 

"Well, Damian," the sound of his name on Jason's tongue is amazing; no one has ever made it sound so beautiful before, and Damian is tempted to blame the whiskey since it's embarrassing to think someone could make him feel so giddy so quickly, "what would you really like to drink?"

 

"A glass of wine." Damian replies without hesitation. "Though I'm supposed to be trying new things."

 

"I'm all for trying new things." A small, but devilish smirk pulls at Jason's lips. Damian feels a prickling warmth spread across his cheeks and down his neck. "But if you like something then stick to it."

 

"Right." Damian is all too happy to agree.

 

Jason quickly waves Roy over again and orders more drinks for the two of them - another beer for himself and the much longed for glass of red wine for Damian. Jason's quick conversation with the redhead goes down with more finesse and much less embarrassment, and Damian tries to compose himself while he sits waiting on the sidelines. He can't come across as an inexperienced, hormonal schoolboy when all he wants to do is make an impression.

 

"We'll start you off slow." Jason says as he pushes the glass towards Damian.

 

The first glass relaxes Damian so that he's not quite so tense anymore. By the end of the second glass, Damian can't really remember _why_ he was so nervous. He's not enough of a lightweight to get drunk on only two glasses of wine, but there's enough of a buzz to make everything feel really good and to take that annoying edge off.

 

They talk. About nothing important and nothing too personal. The loud music forces them closer together, and with Jason's lips brushing against the shell of Damian's ear whenever he says something makes listening to what Jason's talking about almost impossible. Jason's hand, which is resting on Damian's knee, doesn't help matters _at all_.

 

Damian's chest feels too tight. His skin is flushed; wherever Jason's lips brush or his fingers linger, a tingling sensation bleeds deep into Damian's nerves and breathing becomes so difficult that it's painful. The fluttering sensation in the pit of Damian's belly extends to his limbs. His whole body trembles, and with Jason leaning in so close, Damian tries to remember the last time he was so excited by someone else but fails. Damian's heart is also beating incredibly fast. It's something Jason notices - with his lips touching Damian's neck, brushing over the erratic pulse beneath smooth skin, he whispers: "relax."

 

It's something Damian can only laugh at because that's really easier said than done.

 

Then Jason pulls away from him and Damian can only blink owlishly at the other man, confused and saddened by the sudden loss of contact. But Jason doesn't just walk away like Damian dreads he will. He simply wraps his fingers around Damian's wrist, squeezes it gently and says something about going somewhere more private.

 

There is no way Damian can say no.

 

The place where they'll have some time alone is in one of the club's VIP rooms. As the name implies, these rooms are only available to special guests and Damian worries they'll be kicked out, but no one seems to care about them. A few waiters and waitresses even go so far as to nod their heads and murmur polite greetings when Jason passes them by.

 

Whoever Jason really is, apparently he belongs in the VIP section of this crowded club.

 

While Damian is told to take a seat on one of the sofas, Jason heads to the room's mini bar so he can organize their drinks. He comes back with a bottle of tequila, two shot glasses, limes, a salt shaker and a wicked grin on his devastatingly handsome face.

 

"Body shots." Jason announces when he joins Damian on the sofa.

 

Excitement twists hot in Damian's belly.

 

Jason slides his fingers up Damian's neck - his short nails scrape against Damian's sensitive skin, causing wonderful friction. His hand curves around Damian's jaw and Jason murmurs, "tilt your head," so softly that Damian is sure he would have missed it if Jason weren't leaning in so close. Unable to do anything but obey, Damian leans his head to the side so that his throat is exposed. He keeps a careful eye on Jason - he sees the flash of desire, the way Jason swallows, and he feels his own desire spike. When Jason's tongue touches his skin, Damian gasps. The alcohol in his system makes it difficult to think. His head is spinning, and the ache between his legs is almost unbearable. He's moaning, shamelessly, while Jason sucks his skin. His hands are trembling, his fingers are digging into Jason's biceps, trying to keep himself anchored, but failing.

 

Then Jason is pulling away from him.

 

Damian exhales loudly, so very disappointed at the sudden loss.

 

With Damian's neck still exposed, Jason is able to sprinkle a small line of salt along the path he'd licked a few seconds earlier.

 

Meanwhile Damian waits in agonizing anticipation for Jason's lips to touch him again.

 

Finally Jason leans in once more. Damian breathes in, anticipation building to incredible heights, when suddenly Jason just stops. The man makes absolutely no move to continue what he started. Instead Jason is breathing over the line of salt, his breath so warm that Damian shivers. He would voice his disapproval if he could, but Damian's whole body feels like it's being squeezed - crushed under desire's unexpected heaviness - and there is no sound which can possibly escape his burning throat.

 

The moment stretches on and on. One second becomes two, and finally morphs into three. Then, with a low rumble in his chest, the sound shooting straight to Damian's groin, Jason finally licks up the salt with a sensuous slide of his warm tongue.

 

Damian feels dazed. Trapped in the pleasant memory of Jason's touch, Damian never really notices when Jason pulls away so he can bring the shot glass to his lips and down the tequila in one go before taking a bite out of one of the limes. What Damian does see is the absolutely filthy grin he's given. Damian shudders, excitement making his whole body thrum, when Jason whispers that it's his turn.

 

Trembling deep in his core, Damian nods. His hands reach for Jason, fingers twitching to touch, and when he does, he moans, loves the pleasant burn he feels against his fingertips as his fingers glide over the stubble along Jason's jaw.

 

He should do as Jason did, but Damian finds he can't do anything except push closer so he's straddling Jason's thigh. Big hands come to rest on his thighs, squeeze, keep Damian grounded even while it feels like he's losing his mind.

 

The kiss is not unexpected, but even so Damian believes nothing could have prepared for how incredible Jason's lips feel against his own. He makes some kind of broken but pleasing sound that has Jason pushing closer and parting his lips so he can press his tongue against Damian's own lips in an agonizingly sweet plea for more. With a pleased sigh, Damian's mouth opens, his tongue coaxing Jason's closer. Damian's hands move, his fingers run up through Jason's hair, twist in thick curls and pull hard enough to pull a sharp gasp from Jason. There's something hard pressing against his ass, and Damian grins against Jason's mouth, happy to know he's not the only one so affected by what's been happening.

 

A new kind of daring sweeps over and through Damian, emboldening him, giving him the courage needed to begin wiggling his ass. With Jason's cock trapped behind denim, Damian knows the slow and careful roll of his hips is causing all kinds of sweet torture.

 

Jason pulls away from the kiss with a wrecked moan. "Careful," he whispers roughly, "Or I'm gonna end up fucking you right here."

 

Those graceless words have sparks igniting behind Damian's eyes and flames rolling like waves in his belly. It would be beyond reckless, so incredibly unlike him, but Damian _wants_ Jason in ways that aren't entirely rational. But isn't that the whole point of coming here? Surely he's supposed to throw rationality and caution out the window and live beyond the safe bubble he's created for himself.

 

"While fucking me here would be problematic," Damian swallows, feels dizzy from Jason's eyes alone, "I would not object to you fucking me somewhere else more comfortable."

 

How can one man be so unbelievably gorgeous, Damian wonders as Jason's eyes narrow in satisfaction. His lips are swollen and red and so damn alluring that Damian would give anything to kiss them again.

 

"Lead the way, beautiful."

 

* * *

 

 _"I'll be with Conner tonight if you, you know, want to hook up with someone."_ Tim had said earlier that evening. The _just be careful_ was never voiced, but Damian could see it loud and clear in his brother's stormy blue eyes.

 

Damian has never _hooked up_ with anyone. His ex is the only person Damian has ever been intimate with and Damian waited months before he felt comfortable enough in his own skin, in their relationship, to have sex.

 

And now he's leading someone he barely knows into his home so they can fuck.

 

Oh god, what is he doing? This has to be a monumental mistake in the making - going out of your comfort zone never leads to anywhere good, and _why_ did Damian think listening to Tim was suddenly a good idea? He should be using his brother's sometimes messed up life as a cautionary tale and not something to aspire to. Admittedly Tim's messed up life _did_ eventually lead him to Conner, and Damian would never say so out loud, but he sometimes envies their relationship and the perfect way their imperfections have managed to fit together.

 

Damian panics. His fingers are trembling so much that Damian has to fold them around the doorknob so he can steady himself. He pushes the door closed when Jason walks into the apartment, and Damian watches, becoming increasingly anxious, as Jason looks around with obvious interest. While it's by no means the Wayne manor, the lavish apartment he shares with Tim is still the kind of place most people can only dream of.

 

"Nice place." Jason murmurs. His hands are in his jacket pockets like he's afraid to touch anything.

 

"Thank you." Damian finds he's suddenly embarrassed by his obvious wealth.

 

Living under constant scrutiny means Damian has learned not to care about the often biased opinions of strangers, and it's not like Damian lives a life entirely unaware of how fortunate he is. Bruce always made sure Damian and Tim were always closely involved in the Wayne Foundation so they could always be aware of how truly lucky they are. His best friend, Colin, was born with very little and grew up with even less, and Damian has always tried to ground himself, wondering if Jason could now be thinking less of him makes Damian feel uncomfortable despite knowing he isn't just some bored rich boy seeking thrills with random men.

 

How ridiculous to be so affected by someone who probably won't even remember his name come morning.

 

"Would you like something to drink?" Damian winces as he realizes how much he suddenly sounds like Alfred.

 

"No thanks." Jason is smiling again. He takes the few necessary steps needed to get closer to Damian and pulls his hands from his pockets to cradle Damian's cheeks between them. Jason bends his head, begins nipping at a plump bottom lip as he whispers for Damian to relax.

 

Somehow Damian does. His body sags, feeling heavy, but Jason is there to keep him standing. Damian gasps when he's shoved back against the door, and then Jason is leaning into him, pressing their bodies together, and sealing his lips over Damian's. The pleasing scent of old leather as it blends with the subtle spice of Jason's cologne to create something dangerously addictive feels so good that Damian's mind is spinning from it all.

 

Their second kiss is less kind than the first one shared back at the club, but equally good. Jason's teeth are sharp, and bite and nibble in all the right ways. Somewhere along the way Jason managed to pick up on the fact that Damian likes a little pain with his pleasure.

 

It's embarrassing how quickly Damian manages to get hard again. Then Jason rubs up against him, his own erection straining, feeling so good but still not good _enough_ against Damian's own aching cock. Damian groans into Jason's kiss as he forgets all about being embarrassed by his own desires. The need to have his hands on Jason's naked skin is driving Damian mad - stirring his every nerve into a painful frenzy.  

 

Damian's hands push underneath Jason's jacket and slide over his shoulders. Picking up on what Damian is trying to do, Jason easily shrugs out of the piece of clothing. The worn jacket drops to the floor in a small heap, but neither of them continue to pay it much attention. The simple, white t-shirt is the next thing to go. Damian reluctantly pulls away from the kiss and begins clawing at the shirt, almost manages to rip a hole in the terribly thin material. Damian's display of desperation has Jason chuckling before he reaches for the hem and pulls it up and over his head.

 

It drops to the floor next to the jacket.

 

Jason is fucking beautiful, is all Damian can think as more of the man's body is revealed to his hungry eyes. Tanned skin stretches perfectly over hard, defined muscles and Damian is probably gaping in ways he would never do normal circumstances. But how can Damian care when he can touch instead?

 

Enthusiastic hands fold over Jason's pectorals, fingers brushing gently over sensitive nipples, earning a happy groan, and then continue down, down, _down_ over defined abs. His fingers run along the small, hard curves, of Jason's abdominal muscles, and he imagines how they would strain and relax as Damian rides him, as he pushes up into Damian, filling him up in all the right ways. Damian's mouth is painfully dry at the mere idea and continues to dry as his eyes greedily take in the thin line of dark hair that runs down from Jason's bellybutton to below his underwear and jeans.

 

Damian wants to pop those jeans open. He wants to unzip them before dropping down to his knees so he can lick and suck at Jason's hard cock over his underwear. Then, when Jason is panting, his hands clawing at Damian's hair while he begs silently for release, Damian will pull said underwear down and take Jason into his mouth so he can thoroughly undo the man.

 

Instead Damian glances up. He finds Jason's pupils are blown and the look of raw _want_ on the man's face strips Damian of his senses. They kiss again - Jason's lips move wonderfully against Damian's own before they move on along his jaw, and down his neck so he can suck bruises into dark skin.

 

Damian should push Jason away, but he wants to be marked. Damian wants the bittersweet reminder that Jason laid claim to him once. Damian knows he'll run his fingers over bruises kissed into his skin and cling to the memory of what it felt like to be so undeniably wanted.

 

At the same time Jason's hands fold over the curve of Damian's ass so he can lift Damian up. Damian's arms circle around Jason's broad shoulders while his legs clench happily around Jason's waist.

 

"Bedroom." Jason demands. His voice is so rough and needy that it has Damian shivering.

 

"Down the hall." Damian moans. His own voice is cracking into pieces.

 

Time seems to speed up as everything feels like it's happen too quickly. In reality their passionate journey to Damian's bedroom is frequently interrupted as Jason, unable to help himself, pushes Damian up against the wall just to kiss him breathless again. Kissing inevitably leads to grinding against each other like they're overeager schoolboys desperate to get off.

 

They do eventually make it to Damian's bedroom, but everything continues to happen in a daze. Getting undressed and the feeling of Jason's hands and lips on his skin as more and more of him is revealed fade into sensation. Damian watching Jason pull a condom from his wallet so he can roll it over his impressive cock seizes in his mind and Damian drowns in the memory of what it looked like when Jason's hands wrapped around his own cock. Falling back into his bed's many pillows and spreading his legs, heels digging into the mattress and his ass arching off the bed in anticipation of having that hardness inside him, all become one colorful and spinning blur in his mind.

 

Time slows down again when Jason, his skilled mouth on Damian's inner thigh, asks for the lube. The feeling of stubble scratching at his skin makes his toes curl in absolute delight and he's so happy when Jason remains there, kissing and nipping at his inner thigh, even when Damian sits up so he can lean over and reach for his bedside table. The drawer slides open and, flushing at the few toys he's come to rely on for sexual gratification stashed inside, Damian quickly finds the lube. He slams the drawer closed before Jason can look up and see what's hidden inside, and drops the lube close enough to Jason's hand.

 

Jason is so very careful - so incredibly gentle - as he begins stretching Damian. The first two or so fingers always feel strange no matter how much Damian tries to prepare himself mentally. His body is tensing, but Jason's intense, low voice and his lips brushing over Damian's thighs, cock, his balls, have Damian relaxing soon enough. When the third finger thrusts inside him, Damian is pushing against them, pulling them in, squeezing around them, giving Jason a small glimpse of what is waiting for him.

 

Damian figured Jason would prep him quickly so he can hurry up and get to the part that will get him off, but Damian is delightfully surprised when Jason instead continues to take his time. Jason is obviously so concerned about making Damian feel good and his fingers continuously rub against the bundle of nerves inside Damian, driving the younger man wild.

 

The continuous sparks of pleasure caused by Jason's relentless fingers brushing against his prostrate has Damian panting little breaths that are barely there. It's almost too much; almost pushing Damian over pleasure and closer to the point of sweet pain. His legs jerk, the muscles quaking, and Jason's free arm curls around one of his upper thighs, holding Damian steady. His hands claw at the pillows beneath his head so hard that Damian's fingers begin aching from the pressure. Damian's back arches off the bed again, and he's pushing his shoulders back against the mattress, hoping for some kind of leverage. His cock is leaning up hard and heavy against his stomach and Damian finally begs, broken and too blitzed out on pleasure, for Jason to stop and pull his fingers out.

 

Jason does so immediately. The loss has Damian shuddering.

 

"You okay?" Jason asks gently. His aquamarine eyes are beautiful in their concern.

 

Damian nods heavily. "Yes," he breathes and god it's so hard with the way his chest is heaving, "But I really need you to fuck me now."  

 

Jason grins. "I can do that."

 

Jason pushes Damian's hips up, hooks Damian's knees over his arms and, slowly, pushes into Damian with one smooth slide. Damian sighs, releases the pillows he's been holding onto, circles his arms around Jason's neck, and pulls Jason down and kisses him.

 

"Fuck you're flexible." Jason groans against Damian's mouth. His hips have begun moving in short little controlled thrusts that have small stars popping up all across Damian's vision.

 

The force behind Jason's hips becomes more powerful with each and every push into Damian. It has Damian's breath bursting up his throat, and slamming against the back of his teeth. In turn, Jason is making agonizingly soft sounds, wrecked little groans deep in his throat, every time he pulls his cock out and then back in. Those intoxicating sounds become louder, more intense, as Jason loses control of the slow, careful rhythm he's established. The pace eventually becomes faster, harder, and the sparks that have been shooting across Damian's vision begin exploding into large bursts of light whenever Jason's cock pushes up against his prostrate.

 

He can hear his own screaming, coming from somewhere far away. The way Damian's voice hitches every time Jason's hips slam hard against his own, is oh so loud despite Jason's lips on his own.

 

Damian falls back against his pillows, pulling away from the messy and chaotic kiss. His hand finally reaches for his aching cock, no longer able to deny himself the release his body craves. Damian wraps his fingers around his length, curls the palm of his hand over the head of his cock, sweeping up the collection of pre-cum up on his palm and then over the rest of his length.

 

The glide of Damian's hand along his cock matches Jason's own erratic pace. Damian swallows hard when he realizes Jason is watching him, lips parted, eyes black and hazy with pleasure, and _oh fuck_ , Damian can't keep himself from cumming anymore.

 

Damian's orgasm crashes over him, hard and powerful, beginning in his belly, and moving along every vein, sending shockwaves of pleasure up and down every damn nerve in his body.

 

The echo of his own shout echoes in Damian's ears. His fingers are covered in his own cum. He's about to drop his hand on the bed, exhausted and willing to enjoy the sensation of having Jason inside him, when Jason grabs his hand, and sucks a finger into his mouth. He's licking up the pearly drops of Damian's cum, and Damian can't breathe anymore. It's one of the most erotic things Damian has ever seen, ever experienced, and he's gasping, clenching around Jason's cock. He knows Jason is close, can see it in his eyes, and when Jason cums, with that gorgeous low rumble in his chest, Damian is there to catch him.    

 

* * *

 

There's a note waiting for Damian when he wakes up again.

 

 _Here's to trying something new,_ it reads in a surprisingly elegant scrawl.

 

Damian isn't at all shocked Jason snuck out sometime during the night. He'll admit to being a little disappointed, sure, but Damian knows what the previous night was and what it wasn't. It wasn't anything serious, but Jason did make him feel good, worthwhile again, and Damian is more grateful than he'll ever be able to say.

 

Clenching his fist around the note, he listens to the way the paper crumples, and smiles.


End file.
